


Rarities

by bluhawk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, OOC, i am soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluhawk/pseuds/bluhawk
Summary: There was joy, and there was sadness.There was pride, and there was guilt.There was love, and there was loss.One-shot
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Arthur Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Rarities

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Back on my BS? You bet your sweet taint I am!
> 
> I wanted to write this, mostly to see how many of my friends I can piss off by unironically shipping this. However, I'm super rusty when it comes to Harry Potter, so forgive me for inaccuracies (such as writing Arthur and Lucius at the same age although Arthur is four years older).  
> Also, I know "shine" probably isn't the best verb to use, but I couldn't come up with a better synonym. Still.
> 
> Anyways, hope you like it!

He rarely smiles that way.  
He does smile, of course, quite a lot actually. He’s an optimist by nature - it seemed to be a Weasley trait - and often intrigued by the simplest things. Muggles, for example. And that was something to get him into trouble from time to time, as certain students didn’t exactly share his interests.  
But, as he was waiting for his father Septimus outside Dumbledore’s office, alongside the pale, almost ghostly boy he’d yet again fought with, he felt an odd sensation. Not exactly a good or a bad one, just unlike anything he knew familiar. He dared a glance at the other, his own left eye still slightly sore. The poor boy was battling with himself, trying his best to remain dignified. Perhaps he feared his father, or the consequences of their fighting? After all, this wasn’t the first time they were in such trouble, and this was only their first year in Hogwarts. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the Slytherin. Maybe himself as well – he was in school to learn, not to make enemies. Honestly, he would’ve wanted to set this right immediately, but he found no words to speak. As if on cue, the silence surrounding them was broken by a growl, seemingly coming from the blonde’s stomach.  
Suddenly remembering, he picked up his bag to find some sweets he’d stored in case of emergencies – this counted, right? He took one and, whilst making a small sound, handed it to his companion. The other, after blankly staring for a moment, took the offering and quickly ingested it. This brought a smile onto his face, even more so when the blonde caught his stare and regained his posture.  
“I do wish they’ll ease up on these interventions. My father has better things to do,” the smaller boy stated matter-of-factly.  
“True. They should save the effort for actual offenses.” He thought for a minute before chuckling and continuing:  
“Such as driving a car onto the Whomping Willow.”  
At this, the other burst into silent laughter, although he did his best to hide it. Whether it was the absurdity of the joke or the way he’d said it, it didn’t matter. He felt the tension relieve the second they both began laughing.  
“I have no idea where you come up with those, Weasley,” the blonde said when he finally caught his breath.  
“Arthur.”  
“Hm?”  
“You can just call me Arthur. No need for the formalities.”  
For a moment, they both fell quiet again, and he feared he ruined the atmosphere. However, as he thought of something to continue with, the other whispered:  
“Lucius.”  
“Sorry?”  
“You may call me Lucius.” He tried to, once again, regain his posture, but was unable to hide his small smile.  
And Arthur smiled, in a way he never had before.  
\- - -  
He rarely shines that way.  
He does shine, of course, whenever he feels a strong sense accomplishment or gains a victory, big or small. However, he always tried his hardest to not let it get the best of him, because being too proud would only result in difficulties.  
But when he tripped and dropped his books, only to see unfamiliar students making fun of him, he felt the deep urge to prove his capability in self-defense. Given, he was the smallest of his family, but having brothers to tussle with meant that he was by no means weak. And he most definitely was not amateurish when it came to casting spells.  
For reasons unbeknownst to him, some Slytherins had begun picking on him and him in particular. His father claimed it had something to do with family rivalries – that these were mere children, forced into believing strange models of honor and glory. He could almost believe that. And yet, he feared this was the doing of elite students who’d caught wind of his interest in one Lucius Malfoy. Unfortunately, that was something he could understand. Any relationship like theirs was bound to burn in flames: if not by itself, it’ll be set on fire. Hogwarts may claim to be modern and accepting on all fronts, but some things seem to never change.  
He stood up, preparing to get himself into detention yet again, only to stop where he was. His attention wasn’t even caught by the sudden silence of his tormentors. What stopped him in his tracks was the faces of the others, fixated on something behind him. Quickly turning around, he was met with an angry-looking blonde he knew all too well. With a wand in his hand. Ready to fight. The tension laid heavy in the air, if only for a moment.  
Without a word, Lucius took hold of his hand, guiding him away from the now stuttering crowd. After taking several quicker steps he looked over his shoulder, unable to hold back a quirk of a smile. He had never in his life felt more proud - of himself or of his beloved, he did not know. All he knew was that he was so happy it practically shined on his features.  
And Arthur shined, in a way he never had before.  
\- - -  
He rarely cries that way.  
He does cry, of course, for life is not without tragedies. The countless hardships of the war, the fallen souls that would forever echo in his memories. And most of all, the loss of his son. It was an unbearable sadness, weighing on his chest. That pain, however, was dulled by the fact he did not carry it alone.  
But, on that one murky Sunday morning, he knew exactly what’d happened as Molly pulled him aside. Lucius Malfoy had passed away during the night, within his solitary confinement. There were suspicions of foul play - but truthfully, Azkaban rarely looked into such presumptions. Fortunately, his death had been relatively painless. That gave at least some comfort to the redhead. Still, this was one sorrow he could share with no one. The only people who’d known Lucius as he had, were either dead or missing. When he turned himself in, Narcissa took Draco with her into hiding. Honestly, nobody could blame her. It was most likely what Lucius had wanted, too – a better life for his son, somewhere safe to begin again.  
Molly squeezed his hand softly, for she understood. She had always known, but it did not dull the love she held for him. And he, too, had loved her for centuries, giving her a place to call home and a beautiful family of their own. She knew nothing would ever change that. With a shout, she gathered their children and guided them outside. Her husband needed time to mourn.  
As the door fell shut, he finally allowed himself to shed tears. Tears, for the time they were to never gain back, and for the words they never were to speak. Tears, for the man he had loved for years on end.  
And Arthur cried, in a way he never had before.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! And thank you for reading!


End file.
